"...Only wild gnashing dogs like one seesno longer, blood houndsthat attack you,that bay asmy mouth turnsa lovely bluewith the frostof the mown fields of love,love, the great merde,alors, which fertilizes amadness in which,as far as I can see, everything,the way I see everything,is destroyed."

"The sick knowthat a color, a breath of air, a hard step, indeed a whimper of grass in the worldturns the heart insidethe body,causing them to hopefor peace more they sensewar, as the war goes on.They lovethe white uniformsof the nurses.

They hope thatfrom the whitesomething good will come. They are notwhite at all."